


Bolt from the Blue

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: When Akksul sends Jaal a warning, the threat proves surprisingly personal for Jaal and the Ryder family. Forced into a fragile alliance, Akksul, Sara, Scott and Jaal combine forces to try to save Ellen Ryder -- and the fate of the entire Andromeda galaxy.





	1. Chapter 1

  
  


Sara knew it was bad news when she saw Jaal sitting on her bed in her cabin, a data pad between his fingers. Normally, she enjoyed seeing Jaal sitting on her bed - but normally, he wasn’t wearing any clothes when he chose to meet her there, and he certainly didn’t have anything resembling  _work_  in his hands. He’d been spending more and more time in her bedroom, lately; he’d slowly moved virtually all his possessions into her room.

Already, it was starting to resemble something new, not just her bedroom but  _theirs_  - Jaal had several guns on the wall, framed on each side with a couple of paintings done by one of his many, many sisters, who evidently had quite a talent when she wasn’t blowing Kett brains out. He’d even moved in a few angaran data pads; they were similar to her own technology, but foreign enough for her to consistently hit the wrong button - much to Jaal’s amusement. There were also several half-made gifts strewn across their floor; a chaotic mix of poetry-laden wood cuttings, half-shaped knives, and scrambled bits of paper.

It felt homey in a way her small apartment back on the Citadel never had.

“Hey,” she said. Jaal didn’t look up. That set off more alarm bells in her head. Jaal, who was undoubtedly the most social of her crewmates, was nonresponsive. Item number 2 on the trouble checklist? Crossed off.

“Jaal?” She moved forward slowly, careful not to startle him. Jaal had been through a lot, and she was painfully aware of that. He shook his head and looked up at her, the expression alien but, decidedly, sheepish.

“Sorry.” He shook his head and tossed the datapad aside. “Just…lost in thought.” He patted the bedspread and Sara sat down next to him. She put her hand in his, and he held it, but declined to say much more. Sara waited. He reminded her of her father in this way; Jaal would say what he needed to, but only when he was ready. No amount of prompting could make him say what he needed to, otherwise. Thankfully, unlike her father, Jaal was much freer with his emotions, so she didn’t have to wait long.

“Perhaps you should look at this, too,” he said quietly, and placed the angaran datapad he had been holding into her hands. She pressed the large center button, and the screen flared to life. A letter was there, a short one; she scanned the from field and her eyebrows twitched upwards when she read the name of the sender.

“From  _Akksul_?” she asked. Jaal nodded, but said nothing. She continued to read onward to the message below, written in the swirling  _Shelesh_ of Jaal's people. It took her longer to read it than she liked, but she refused to use the automatic translators for the angara and had instead done an intensive study of the language. If the Initiative were going to make it here, they had to learn the language. She was getting better at it; soon she would be able to read the books that Moshae Sjefa had left to her in hopes of learning more of the angaran history.

_Jaal -_

_Though we do not see eye to eye on the Outsiders, I trust you can move past this for the information I am about to give you._

_Thanks to you, I am no longer the leader of the Roekaar. The new leader has come up with a plan that threatens not only your precious_ outsiders  _but our own people as well. You no doubt detest me, but I am a patriot above all. This threat could destroy both of us. It must be stopped. Regretfully, you and your Outsiders are in a far better position to do so. Meet me on Aya. We have much to discuss._

_\- Akksul._

“Woah,” she said, blinking. There were people she expected might throw Jaal with an unexpected message - the Moshae, Evfra, his numerous brothers and sisters and mothers - but Akksul hadn’t been one of them. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected him to live that long once he’d lost favor from his fellow Roekaar. She'd been fortunate not to get involved with the gangs on earth, but she had seen how they operated. 

“Yes,” Jaal chuckled awkwardly, and she looked up into his eyes. She raised her hand, tracing the scar underneath his eye. She hadn’t forgotten - or forgiven - Akksul for what he had done to her people, but even less for what he had done to Jaal. “Needless to say I was — most startled.”

“Yeah.” She stroked his cheek several times, and Jaal put his arm around her, pulling her close. She leaned into him, her arm tightening across his back. Akksul had tried to take him from her, but he had failed. And now, Jaal was hers. “Do you think it’s a trap?”

“It was my first thought,” he admitted, resting his head on her own. It was amazing how they had come from two different galaxies, but certain gestures of love remained the same across all barriers. “But I don’t think so. Akksul isn’t one for such trickery.” He chuckled. “You may have noticed, he’s…an emotional type.”

She snorted derisively. She didn’t have a lot of respect for Akksul as an adversary; he’d fallen into their trap, repeatedly. He fired off shots before thinking. He’d all but kidnapped Jaal’s siblings, filling them with hatred. He was hardly Che Guevara. He was simply a terrorist.

“I think he’s legitimate,” Jaal said, staring at her. “And I think we should go meet him.”

“I think we should bring back-up,” she said, folding her arms. She knew they couldn't ignore the message, but she would only trust Akksul as far as she could throw him without her biotics. “Can’t we just vid him?”

“If he had information that could be shared with us over the public airwaves, he would have already done it,” Jaal said. “I know Akksul, Sara. If he says we must meet in person, then he has a reason to do so.”

“Jaal, with all due respect - this guy just tried to shoot you not even two months ago.”

“But he missed.” Jaal shook his head. “Do not misunderstand, Sara. Taking others is good caution, but — we need to check in on this. I could not forgive myself if we ignored this only to be caught off guard by a threat… Especially if it hurt…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. The letter had promised that the threat was not just to the Initiative, but they both knew the Roekkar would be targeting anyone who wasn’t angaran. And she wasn’t. And just as she couldn’t live without him, well - neither could he live without her now.

“Alright.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to get into the mindset of a Pathfinder. “I think you need to set up a meeting with him. We can change course for Aya now - but where do you want to meet him?”

“Do you remember the place I showed you on Aya?” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against her neck. This, she knew, was a sign of affection to the angara for a loved one; it reminded her somewhat of her old cat, Sparky, who had been fond of waking her up by doing that.

“Our Paradise?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I think that would be an ideal location.”

“It’s not exactly near anything.” She pointed out; it had been a good thing at the time - a very good thing - but when it came to meeting Akksul, she wanted it to be somewhere where she could see him. Then again; an isolated location meant it would be easier to keep their people in ambush positions - and harder for Akksul to escape into the crowd. “Actually - no, nevermind. That’s good.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at her, his blue eyes almost unspeakably intense as they stared down at her. “I…need you to be there with me. I could not do this alone. Akksul is…abrasive. I do not want you to be more uncomfortable than the meeting must be, my darling.”

“I never was satisfied with how we ended things with him. And I’m comfortable with this - we can have a few of our people hiding in the caves, and, in the wilderness, Akksul loses his ability to hide in a crowd.”

“He still has the upper hand if he does run, though - he has known those woods all his life. You have not.” He stroked her cheek for a moment, saying nothing. He looked thoughtful, and he nodded to himself a couple of times before turning to her and saying, “Yes. You must be careful. I will give you directions via SAM if - if it is necessary.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Write him back. If he accepts, we’ll call everyone together tomorrow and plan out the meeting. If not, well - we’ll look into this, either way.”

“Thank you, my darling.” Jaal’s hands curled around hers. “I am relieved to hear you say that. I was worried that you would wish to - what is the idiom? Kick the sleeping dog?”

“Other way. Let sleeping dogs lie.” She chuckled. “I’m doing a lot better on Shelesh than you are at English.” She poked at him playfully, but to her surprise, Jaal caught her hand, bringing it upward, to his mouth.  
  
“Your language is far more complicated,” he sniffed, but then smiled. “But it is alright. You are all the more amazing for having mastered it, and done so well on Shelesh aside.”

He pushed her down onto the bed, and she yelped his name, laughing in surprise. He was on her quickly, pinning her hands down as he looked at her amusedly.

“I think I should like to go over the Shelesh alphabet with you again,” he said, softly. His eyes were tender, and judging from their positions, she had little doubt as to what he meant. “You can always benefit from…extra practice, is it not so?”

“Don’t think I can concentrate with that going on.” She laughed but pulled insistently at his rofjinn. He grinned at her, confident of his success, and threw it on top of Vetra’s long-unfinished poetic epic.

“Therein lies the challenge for the overachieving student,” he said. He pressed his head to her shoulder again, then grunted, tugging at her shirt. Men, she thought, were all the same, regardless of which galaxy they happened to be born in. She laughed and tossed it over her head. A grateful Jaal pressed his lips to her shoulder once more, and she wrapped a hand around his head. With such direct skin to skin contact, she could feel the electromagnetic pulse that hummed through his skin, a gentle tingle that washed over her only - if only - she payed attention to it.

He send a flurry of kisses to her breasts, laughing when they moved. She gasped softly, her hand tightening lightly, and he chuckled again.

“This is a definite advantage of your species,” he said. “We don’t have anything quite like this.”

His mouth moved downward, pressing a trail of hot kisses to her pants.

“Do you remember this letter?” He asked, before dipping his tongue back to her taut stomach, spelling out a familiar whirl.

“ _P-Pa_!” She breathed, and he looked up at her.

“Is that your answer, or are you just making noises?”

“Don’t play dirty,” she murmured, sticking out her lower lip. He smiled again as he pressed a hot kiss to her belly, then tugged at her pants. She slid them off gladly, eager to be closer to him. He separated from her for only a second to remove his own clothing, before crawling back between her legs.

“I think it is time to teach you the word of knowledge,” he said, and gave her an almost terrifying leer. She really did believe he wanted nothing more than to devour her - and in the best possible way, indeed. His mouth began to trace the letters inside of her cunt, and she moaned, “ _pa_ -something.”

He looked up for one moment and grinned at her. “Good girl. But - a bit more specific, please.”

She shoved him back downward, muttering, “Get back to work, teacher.”

And then, much to her relief, he did.

  
***

Aarsoh Namal surveyed the human woman lying on the stretcher in front of her. She was frail, even by the pitiful design of her species. A middle-aged woman, she looked older than most of the humans who’d invaded the Heleus cluster.

“It’s hard to believe _this_ is the key to our victory,” she said, glancing toward Evfraay Qod; ever since she’d gained power over the Roekaar, Evfraay had been in her corner. He was a quiet man, a scientist - few had appreciated him in the Resistance, and Akksul had never found a use for him. That was but one of many of Akksul's failures -  Evfraay had a gifted mind, and a fanatical disposition toward their victory. He’d given her his loyalty and, more than that, he’d given her the keys to their victory.

Including this strange woman.

 _This_ would expel the outsiders. Of that, she believed fully. And how delicious to think that they would fall by their own hand.

“What are the chances that the Initiative might follow us here?” She asked; Evfraay smiled slowly, the way he often did when he took particular delight in an answer.

“Unlikely, my _tavetaan_. This woman has no family listed in the _vesagara_ ’s sad excuse for a database. And, given that she was given the lowest priority in their cryogenics systems, it’s unlikely her absence will be noticed for quite some time. Our mole on the station hasn’t even disclosed her illness, which means even if they do notice that she is missing, they will not realize _why_.”

“Wonderful.” She said. “How long do you think we can continue to get stock from her?”

“Indefinitely.” He glanced toward the woman lying on their table, his face as disdainful as her own. “Our little friend at the _vesagara_ ’s Nexus downloaded her genetic data; all we need to do is keep our little plant watered and fed, and she should continue to produce as much blood as we need to wipe all of their filth from our galaxy.”

“A true patriot, our _vesoan._ ” She said. “See that we get our little pet here into production as fast as possible. We’ll have to have time to test it before we bring it onto the nexus. I’m not taking anything to chance.”

“Understood, my leader,” Evfraay said, nodding and moving to begin hooking the woman up to the machine had devised. A monstrous thing, it was a barrier that would keep her alive, force-feeding her nutrients - and sedatives. She would not have wished it upon any but her enemies - and all humans were her enemies. 

Aarsoh allowed herself a rare smile. The pumps began to charge. _Soon_ , _vesegara, soon_. Soon they would be driven from the galaxy like the rats they were, and soon the Kett would join them, leaving space for the races that were _meant to be here_.  
  
And to think after years of struggle, the Roekaar’s success would come thanks to this human woman, this—her eyes glanced at the data on the woman’s stasis pod as Evfraay lifted her from one coffin to another—this _Elizabeth Riley._


	2. Chapter 2

It was… _odd_ … being on Aya again.

Akksul walked among his people, all but lost in the lush, verdant greenery of Aya. The garden world was, as always, peaceful. Tranquil. The people there were thankful; many had been on worse worlds, had been in the camps, like him. Had known there was more to this life than the pleasures of a beautiful garden - and had known they were lucky to live in paradise.

He wondered if Jaal had taken his pet human there yet.

He still couldn’t bring himself to like Moshae Sjefa’s _other_ famous student. Jaal and him had never quite seen eye to eye - and the differences in their… _philosophies_ …were never more apparent than after Jaal had taken up with the little human. He wondered how he could even bear to touch such an odd-looking alien. Did not the hair itch? Did not the skin not feel disturbingly thin under his hands? He shook his head. He would never understand Jaal’s obsession with the _vesagara_. The Kett had been _vesagara_ , had hurt their people before - and now, Akksul could only pray that these new outsiders would not do so again.

It rankled him to have to depend on Jaal and his _friends_ from the Milky Way. It rankled him worse than anything since the Kett themselves, and the camp, long ago. He couldn’t forgive Jaa’s precious _vesagara_ , but neither could he forsake them. The bitter truth of it was he needed Jaal and his precious Outsiders. The Roekaar had turned against him. He had not, in the end, been fit to lead, for all his intelligence and passion.   
  
And, unfortunately, Aarsoh Namal was a true leader. He’d known it from the moment she’d joined the Roekaar, and had been foolish enough to think it was a good thing. He had thought from the way her eyes had gazed with hatred that she would be ideal on the front lines; a commander. She had nothing to live for but to push back the Outsiders, the _vesagara_ , and, at the time, he’d been thankful.

Now her fervor had overtaken him, had cast him out, and she was far more radical than he had ever been.

Irony, he supposed. “You seem troubled,” the Moshae said. She placed her hand on his shoulder; reassurance, but he needed none. He knew what must be done; the trouble was how he felt about it. He turned his head; Moshae Sjefa smiled, but it was a smile tinged with the slightest traces of sadness. She took a step forward, standing with him and watching the burbling water on the lake. Jaal had chosen a peaceful place for them, he felt that boded well as to Jaal’s intentions. Jaal had always been a poetic soul.  The Moshae had agreed to intervene on his behalf; it would keep Jaal and his _friends_ in check should Akksul interpret Jaal’s sign incorrectly. The Moshae would not allow Jaal’s Milky Way crew to do anything that would hurt the angara for the benefit of those who had come to take their worlds from them.

“I am always troubled,” Akksul said, not bothering to look at her. He heard her sigh and supposed she must find him a bit irritating. But what was he to do? She had been captured; surely she still saw the camps at night, when she closed her eyes. He knew he was not alone in that. Many in the Roekaar had nightmares. He had heard them.

“You must put your hatred aside,” she said, nodding toward the water. “Embrace the water’s path, Akksul. Powerful but moving ever onward.”

“Hmph.” He folded his arms and looked away. He had always been more a man of earth than water - a side effect, he supposed, of being raised on Voeld. Water was an enemy more than a necessity; ground for crops was scarce, more prized. Water, to him, did not mean change - it meant death.

But as with so many things, he would have to learn to put it aside.

“You mustn't blame Jaal for what happened with the Roekaar,” the Moshae said, bending down and idly swirling the water with her fingertips. She was tracing symbols in old _Shalesh_ , the madder circles of the holy font swirling along the river. He had not known her to be so superstitious - but then, they had grown quite separated in the last few years, and he knew, better than most, what a year in a prison camp could do to one’s view.

“It does not matter now,” he said, and she nodded. He had already told her of his dilemma, of course; if anything, he should have asked for her advice sooner. He should have stopped Aarsoh Namal from gaining any sort of following, but he had cast out his own good judgment for the sake of convenience, and now he was paying for it.

“That, at least, we agree on.” She looked up at him, diverted from her task. “Do not let your pride get in the way of your duty, Akksul. The human that they are holding — you must know they will want to rescue her.”

“Fortunately, the Roekaar plans for that human make this a requirement,” he muttered; Sjefa opened her mouth to reply, but her words, if she said any, were drowned out by a snub-nosed ship flying Andromeda Initiative colors. The _Tempest_ , Akksul noted. Jaal had arrived.

He stood up a little straighter and moved forward toward the ship as it landed. He would remember the Moshae’s words and he would act on them.

Even if it burned his pride to the ground. He swallowed as he halted in front of the _Tempest_ 's stairs, waiting for the crew to begin its descent. 

He stared at little Sara Ryder. She was such a small thing. Her head was the size of his hand; an utterly frail creature. And yet - she had an unshakable and commanding presence. She reminded him somewhat of Aarsoh Namal in that; but unlike Namal, Ryder used her fervor to make friends, not jettison them. She smiled at him, in spite of all that happened, and even he, who knew she could not possibly mean it, felt almost welcomed.

He did not return it, simply giving her a crisp nod. She moved to the side, and Jaal came out behind her. He looked well, Akksul grudgingly admitted. He had been left with only a small scar from their meeting; a half-moon that twitched as Jaal scanned around him. Their eyes caught, and Akksul felt the usual emotions roil within him - anger, disgust, and, buried somewhere he absolutely would never admit to it - guilt. Akksul knew that Jaal had not deserved to be shot, but neither did he deserve to have been deposed, and in such a heartless way.

The rest of their mangled crew filed out behind Jaal; none were Angaran. There was a Krogan, who looked eager for ruin the sanctity of this sanctuary, judging by the way his hand played with the safety on his gun. Next, an Asari with what looked like grease paint over her eyes; it may as well have been a heavy handed symbol for their races’ blindness to what they were doing to the Heleus cluster. A turian, female he would guess by the smallness of her head - though she, too, was armed, and stared at him with a cool expression that suggested she could and would shoot if need be. Several humans, of course, because what was the Andromeda Initiative without their largest group of troublemaking _vesagara_ ; a dark-brown one with a somewhat surprisingly friendly disposition who smiled at him, and a rather glum looking pale pink one with yet another gun.

He held his empty palms up. “It appears, Jaal, that you have packed an entire army into that…thing.” Moshae Sfeja took her place at his side; he glanced over toward her and tried not to smirk when he saw that she, too, was frowning at their weapons.

“Jaal, Ryder, everyone —” She reached forward. “Are such weapons truly necessary? Are we not among friends here?”

“They’re just a precaution, ma’am,” the white-haired human said. _Precaution_. Akksul wanted to laugh. They had come for a fight, as aliens always did, and they were only stopped from firing by Jaal, who had, at the very least, a small bit of sense left in him.

“Friends, in my experience, do not shoot other friends,” the one named Ryder said. She was not smiling, but the words were said plainly enough. He didn’t detect any malice in her, which was surprising. He would have thought she, above all, would hate him. But it was not the first time Ryder had proved him wrong.

“Few things can be accomplished under the threat of armed guard,” the Moshae said, and, in her own way, she was ordering them. Even they knew it, Akksul noted with satisfaction, as they all, nearly as one, glanced toward Ryder and Jaal. That Jaal was seen as a leader was...interesting. That he filed away for his own information; it was useful to note who they looked to for leadership, and at least in the matter of the angara, they looked to Jaal.

“We will leave them at our ship and meet at the water’s edge,” Jaal grunted. “Would that be to your satisfaction, Akksul?”

“Yes,” he said. Jaal turned back onto the ship; Akksul stared at him until the steel door slammed shut around him and his crew.

\- - 

Not all of them returned, as Akksul had expected. The krogan, turian and asari were gone; damnably, all three of the humans reappeared, along with Jaal. Still, he supposed he ought to be thankful. Less of them to deal with was always welcome.

“Thank you for your peace,” Moshae Sjefa said, rising from their position at the water’s edge and bowing toward Jaal’s group. “We understand such an act may have been difficult for you.”

“It was, but we came here to hear what Akksul has to say,” the Ryder woman piped up again; Jaal’s eyes stayed on her, watching her, and Akksul wondered if he’d gone so far as to coach the woman on what to say. “Assuming he has anything of worth to say?”

He opened his mouth, but the Moshae cut him off, raising one hand. “It is said that sweet fern gathers more _adhi_ than bitter vine, Sara.”

She had at least enough respect for the Moshae to look properly chagrined at the censure. Red-faced in that odd way that humans tended to be when Akksul had noticed they were under duress, she sat down. Jaal and her other humans followed.

“Please,” she said, through what Akksul suspected were ground teeth. “We came all this way to hear what you had to say.”

“Very well,” he said, nodding toward the Moshae. “How aware are you as to the comings and goings of the Roekaar?”

“Not very,” Jaal said, grudgingly, and Akksul almost smiled at the look on his face, his eyes downcast in shame. The Roekaar had known all the standard Angaran Resistance Forces methods; he had made sure not to be detectable by any of the ways that they monitored the Kett. He would not be taken down by the people whose interests he served. “We know only that they have been quiet since your failed invasion at Eos, and quieter still after - well, after the Forge.”

“Hmph. Then you know little of the most recent movement.” Akksul crossed his arms and stared at the water. _Calm and ever changing_ , he thought; he thought of Havarl, of Eos, of Voeld, and tried to gather his strength. He did not dare to look at Jaal and the others, lest it shake his resolve. “I was deposed of my leadership shortly following your stand at our birthplace... Another quickly rose to take my place. Aarsoh Namal. Do you know of her?”

“She was in the Resistance, was she not?” Jaal said, scratching his head. “I served with her briefly. She was smart, but…reckless. Evfra did not like her, and I heard he cast her out after I had left Havarl for Eos.”

“Well, she found a home among my people. Aarsoh Namal helped us deliver decisive strikes against the Kett. Not once, but twice. She was responsible for getting rid of two Kett investigation teams on Havarl; we were able to take the Helium 3 deposit on the Dawnsstar comet thanks to her.”

No one said anything. Akksul supposed he should be happy for small mercies.

“She was a good strategist. I used her strategies well, despite the risks she sometimes took. But after my — our talk at the Forge, she began to talk to the others about how I was a weak leader who was exploiting her genius. She pledged that she could handle the Resistance and the Kett, and that if it came down to it —” Akksul looked over at Jaal, trying to get a read on him. “She said she would finish the job on you.”

Jaal’s eyes rose in surprise. “Me? Why me?”

“You’re well known among my people as a …deviant. No doubt she thinks your mating with a _vesagara_ is …unpuritant.”

“Sara is NOT a deviant.” Jaal snarled. He bared his teeth and dropped into an aggressive stance; Akksul stared at him.

“I am only reporting on her feelings, do not accuse me in her stead.” Akkul assumed a defensive stance. Jaal always had been too emotional, and now Akksul, once again, was reminded of why it was such an annoying defect in Jaal’s character.

The Moshae raised an arm, and Jaal, much to his satisfaction, instantly stood up straight, dropping the challenge. “We are getting off track. Please, Jaal, do not dare to bring physical violence into this meeting. And Akksul - try _not_ to inflame your allies passions with such…rhetoric.”

“My apologies.” Akksul spat out. He did not like the feeling of guilt that wormed its way into his chest. Not for having offended Jaal - but for having displeased the Moshae.   
  
“At any rate, she seized control by isolating my faction, promising to end the tyranny of the _vesagara_ from the Milky Way through a new weapon. I’ve gotten enough evidence of this weapon to know it isn’t a bluff." Jaal opened his mouth to speak, but Akksul was not willing to listen. "To silence your doubts, I brought proof. See for yourself,” Akksul said, lighting up his omni-tool.   
  
Akksul knew the footage well, had watched it many times, but he watched again. Akksul had learned in the camps that one of the few things you should always do for someone else was to bear witness. Even if what was happening to them was painful, or wrong, it was important not to avert his eyes. Averting their eyes to the truth had hidden the lies of the Kett from the Angora. Lies would not hold him, nor their people. Not anymore. Even for a human, he would bear witness.

The video lit up on his screen. It was a dim video, taken with the limited resolution of his omni-tool. Nevertheless, the horrible truth was still revealed: a home-made sort of stasis pod held a woman in suspended animation; the glass of the chamber had been smashed, replaced by sprawling lines of tubes. Three tubes carried bright red liquid out of her.

“What the hell,” the dark-skinned man said; the woman, paler even that she had appeared when first she had walked down the landing, nodded. Ryder gave out a cry of distress, while Jaal simply opened his eyes wider. All watched as the camera panned along with the tubes, following them as they ran through a latticework of tubing, where they encountered white, phosphorous liquid. The walkalong continued as the liquid was hardened into a gaseous substance; then cut out.

“What is -” Jaal said, then stopped, as the video resumed. Three humans were being held in a room together; they were in various states of undress. One had lost only his gloves, the rest of his armor staying intact; one was nearly naked; the third was somewhere between the two, with torn and grubbed up armor.

There was no sound as the camera - this one, not his own, but a security feed he’d hacked into before leaving - recorded the three pacing a small, tightly locked cell. It was a miserable looking place; dirt floors, heavy iron door.

An angaran scientist came into the room, talking to the three; she asked them three questions, and though they all had no idea what she was saying, they could see the soldiers becoming more and more panicked as her questioning continued. The largest, who had kept most of his armor, shoved her away after the third question. The other two rallied behind him - hesitant at first. Then, after the biggest one shoved her again, they became agitated.

The woman took a moment to get up and place a mask upon her face. Calmly, she pulled a substance out of her pocket and threw it at their feet before leaving the heavy cell. The substance smoked for a few seconds before the least-protected of the three began coughing; within minutes, the other three began to cough, too. Within seconds, all three were twitching on the floor.

“Oh, hell, is that - is that eating through their clothes?” the pale woman asked. He nodded, surprised she had picked up on it that quickly. The patches of pink and brown on the skin of the outsiders began to widen as their protective layers were stripped away. Even in the low resolution of the security camera, one could see their flesh begin to bubble away.

“What sort of strange substance is this, Akksul?” Jaal said; like him, Jaal did not look away, even as the humans writhed in agony, slowly being burned down to skeletons. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“A biologically engineered weapon made from the colonist they have chained. With her blood, they can multiply their weapon's harshest effects and add new ones, like that chemical burning. And they can use it on both outsiders and all angara who do not believe in their path,” Akksul said. “This colonist they have chained has a disease. An exceedingly rare, degenerative one. AEND, I believe the humans call it.”

“AEND?” Ryder said, gasping. He wondered if it was something commonly feared by humans, and, in that case, why they should have brought it for Andromeda. “Akksul - what - what was the prisoner’s name?”

He rolled his eyes. “I hardly feel her identity is important at this stage. She has never been allowed to awaken.”

“Akksul, I - please.” Ryder rewound the video, staring at the barely visible face on the model. “It’s important.”

“They call her _the human_ mostly, but I did manage to take down the number on the capsule. It’s….#FLENS-202,” he said and her face crumpled.

“Oh god,” she moaned. He tilted his head. “How did they get ahold of her?”

“I do not know,” he said, folding his arms. “Thanks to… events - I was no longer considered a member by the time they made the decision to grab her. All I know is they brought her to the base, under strict orders that she was to be kept alive.”

“Oh god, Jaal.” Ryder grabbed his arm in a way that reminded him of the desperation of the camps, of the prayers not be chosen. “Jaal, that’s - that’s my mom. We have to get her!”

There was a deafening silent throughout the forest. Akksul raised his brow, seeking information from Jaal or the Moshae’s faces, but both looked as surprised as he felt. He half expected Jaal to know; he had not known of this, but it would aid him in getting them to take action against his usurper in the Roekaar. On the other hand, _of course_ it was the Ryder family who somehow wound themselves up in this mess. He was beginning to think that the human pathfinder and her family had a rather disgusting influence over their galaxy, and were only trying to press themselves somehow deeper into the fabric of a place they did not belong.

“I have to - Scott, I mean, I have to call my brother, I have to - I’m sorry,” Ryder said, bowing to him in the proper way of an angaran diplomat. He stared, startled by her respect, and the Moshae covered for them both, bowing and forcing her hand behind her back to force him to go down as well. He felt the bioelectric spark of indignation and felt shame for not returning it properly. He did not like her people but if she attempted to follow their customs, well, at least she was improving upon their rather worthless mould.

“This meeting is over,” Jaal said; then, he glanced back to the other two humans. Sara Ryder was already gone, halfway up the steps to her ship. Jaal shared a look with Cora and Liam, the communication between them passing unseen and unmissed. “Akksul, you have your partnership. We’ll do whatever we can to stop this weapon… and bring Sara’s mother home.”

He nodded, not willing to give words that might ruin the fragile alliance.

“We will try to find more information on Mrs. Ryder,” the Moshae said, speaking for him. “Go to her, Jaal. We will call you with more information when we have it.”

“We will  do the same. Let us rendezvous at the Nexus in two days with whatever information we have,” Jaal said.

“A good idea to keep varying the environment of our meeting place,” the Moshae said, nodding. “We will meet you then. And we will be busy.”

Akksul debated letting the Moshae speak for him entirely, but knew he should say something himself.

“Jaal!” he barked. Jaal turned, and the two humans turned with him. “Stay strong and clear!”

“You as well.” Jaal said, and then he was gone.

Akksul did not miss the soft smile on the Moshae's face.

\---

Akksul did not linger on Aya, despite her beauty. He said his goodbyes to the Moshae quickly; she would try to talk to the elders on Aya and encourage them to take a more public stand against the Roekaar, while his work was… more subtle.

He immediately punched in the call as soon as he got to his console. He detested the act he must do and felt little need to do anything but finish it.

“If it is not our Akksul,” Aarsoh Namal said. She folded her arms and glared at him. Foolish, he thought; Namal was gifted at tactics, but made a poor judge of character. He did not expect her to love him, but he was a tool that could well be used in the movement. A momentary failure in disposition did not make him any less a crack shot or powerful rhetorician.

“I thought perhaps I could aid you,” he said, allowing himself to look supplicant even if it burned his pride to do so. “I understand you are bringing us to the horizon of a new dawn.” That had been what they had been calling the weapon: _dawnstar_. He was playing a delicate game now - to let her know he _knew_ , but now how _much_ he knew.   
  
“And those of us on the right side of history will profit from it. You are _dismissed,_ ” she snarled, and shut the comm line down. He leaned back into his flight chair, troubled. The odds of her sharing information was slim; now it was time to go down to the next person on his list.

He dialed the next number, and Evfraay answered, his face already set in a thin line.

It was a troublesome thing, begging for scraps, but Akksul was nothing if not industrious and devoted to the cause.

 _He_ would be the downfall of Aarsoh Namal.


	3. Chapter 3

He found her in the vid-call room already talking to Scott. She’d no doubt already updated her brother on the situation; Jaal wasn’t the best at reading human expressions, but he thought Scott looked unusually grave. Sara, of course, was as focused as always.

He slid behind her as she talked to Scott, relating what Akksul had told him. He placed a hand around her waist and she leaned back. Pleased, he held her close, frowning as he felt her elevated heart-rate. He wished for the first time that she was an angaran woman; without the bio-electricity of his people, he was powerless to calm it in any way but by supporting her.

“Hi, Jaal,” Scott said. He nodded toward the other man. Scott looked as agitated as Sara did, and, unfortunately, Jaal knew he must be just as upset. That meant he had two people to try to calm, and he knew Sara well enough to know dealing with her alone was quite a tall order.

Humans, he had found, were just as emotional as the angara, if you got to know them well enough.

“We need to get mom back,” Sara said.

“Tell me about it.” Scott sighed. “Come back to the Hyperion. I’m coming with you.” Scott leaned back in the frame, and Jaal realized with a shock that Scott had a metal brace covering his torso. He must have looked surprised, because Scott shook his head.

“It’s just for my physical therapy. I don’t need this all the time.”

“You’re still pretty weak, Scott,” Sara said, folding her arms. Jaal hid a smile by brushing his mouth against the back of her hair, not wanting Scott to misconstrue his smile as anything but amusement at the fact that siblings didn’t change, no matter what galaxy they were from. Sara reminded him of nothing so much as Ja’ira, his oldest sister, who banned him from any and all shooting practice until he was old enough to hold a gun without his limbs shaking. That had been the longest ten years of his life.

Scott looked equally as surly as he had.

“Sara,” he said, in a voice that brooked no arguments. “Please. She’s my mom, too.”

“You can’t hurt yourself! Mom wouldn’t want that!” She was digging her heels in, Jaal thought; her hand closed into fists. Jaal debated intervening; among angora, it would be welcome, a sign of true belonging in a family - but among humans, he was aware that family relationships were quite different. Sara, after all, only had one mother, one brother.

“Sara, I’m not saying I have to be on the frontlines, but - I am going to rescue her. With or without you.” Scott terminated the feed.

Sara sighed, agitated, and slid away from him. “Ugh! That jerk.”

“You cannot blame him too much. If it were my mother, there would be little that could keep me away. If it was you - well, no one would stop me.” Jaal shook his head. “You should heed him, Sara - he will leave to try to help her with or without us, but you’ll only be able to influence him if he’s with us.”

“I know this.” Sara ran a hand through her hair. He always enjoyed watching her move the strange mass of strands; it was utterly unique to her species, something he loved to see. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like on a human planet, like the _Aerth_ she often spoke of - did their hair shed everywhere? Was it used in crafts, in folklore? She shook her head again and he focused on the mission at hand. “I’m just…. I wish more than anything this hadn’t happened.”

“I know.” Jaal pulled her into an embrace again, breathing deeply. She smelled distressed; he could all but feel it vibrating through her, lack of bio-electrical impulses or no. “We will get her back, Sara. I promise.”

“I know that, too.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “ Do you think that Akksul can be trusted?”

“In as far as this, yes.” Jaal nodded. Akksul was a smart man but not a crafty one. If this was a trick, he would have appealed to them in purely emotional terms. He would have found out that Elizabeth Reilly was Ryder’s mother and exploited it. He would never just simply leave it as video evidence of a random human. He knew Akksul well enough to know how he utilized propaganda, how he thought.

“I’m glad he’s on our side, then.” She frowned. “Why did the Roekaar decide to go for biological weapons? I can’t believe they’d hurt their own people just to try to get rid of us.”

“It tells me they are desperate.” Jaal shrugged. “That, or their new leader no longer cares about collateral damage.” He shook his head. “She should, though. All angara should. The have’s been too many sacrifices to make more just...needlessly.” He looked up at her. “I hate them.”

“Me too.” She shrugged. “I know we’ve not gone after the Roekaar much - now I feel like we might live to regret that.”

“Hey,” Vetra said, approaching from the stairs. “Pathfinder, I - Ooh, am I interrupting?” Her mandibles quirked outward, and Jaal looked over to Sara. She shook her head, more bemused than anything else, and broke the embrace.

“No.” Sara was instantly all business, holding her head high and staring down at her subordinate with a command that Jaal was proud to see she had grown into over the past few weeks. “What is it?”

“I’ve got Sid trying to crack into the Cryo-bay archives on the Hyperion. She’s a pretty good hacker, and I’m making sure she’s careful.” Jaal wasn’t surprised that Vetra had already heard of their situation, nor was he surprised that she was already volunteering to help. Gossip spread around the Tempest like wildfire, but, somehow, charity spread faster. There was nothing that impressed him more about the Milky Way species than their ability to grant aid to others, and the way in which they did so. Few of their kind would not offer aid, and most even offered it without strings attached.

“Thank you,” Sara said, sounding almost relieved. He hoped she knew the crew would always support her; he was not the only one who would not dare to step away from her command. He knew he’d not find a better Captain. Even Efvra was not half the leader that Sara had become. “You will let me know if there are any updates?”

“Of course,” Vetra said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve already got a few contacts in the supply cache on the Nexus going through our armory and picking out pieces for Scott. He should be fully kitted up by the time we get to the docks. Probably better armed than us, if I know Ben like I think I do.”

“Thank you, Vetra,” Sara said, and sighed. “I guess Scott is coming with us then.”

“I don’t think you could keep him away,” Vetra said, her mandibles flaring out in what Jaal had come to realize was a smile. That was something else he did not understand about their people; each species seemed to have its own unspoken code of expressions, and they were all different. He was learning, but found the diversity fascinating. “I’m going back to my station now. Will notify you of any updates.”

“Thanks,” Sara said, and just like that, they were alone again.

“Do not worry about him,” Jaal said. He had little trouble reading Sara’s mind; she always thought about her brother, and Jaal knew that even he was second in Sara’s thoughts compared to protecting her younger sibling. It was one of the traits he loved most about her; she had a devotion to family that was virtually angaran. “I will protect him, should he stumble on the battlefield.”

Privately, he did not think this was likely; from what Sara had told him, Scott Ryder was as seasoned as his sister. But she relaxed a bit when he offered, her lips turning from pre-occupied frown to a slight smile, and Jaal rejoiced in the change. “After all, I should like to make him my brother, too,” he whispered, and the deep blush on Sara’s face was worth even more than her smile.

“Excuse me, Pathfinder, Jaal,” he heard, and turned to find Cora looking at him. Cora had taken some time for him to warm up to; unlike the others on the Tempest, she was rarely outwardly emotional, and of all the crew mates he had the hardest time picking up her facial expressions. However, she was loyal, and as he had gotten better at picking up the subtleties of Sara’s body language, so too did he come to understand Cora better.

“Cora,” Sara said, nodding toward her. Sara always seemed to hold Cora in the highest of respects; he had been told by Sara that Cora once was going to be the Pathfinder if something had happened to Alec. And while that hadn’t come to pass, Jaal could see why the humans had placed their faith in this woman. “What’s up?”

“I told Vetra about Scott, and I was thinking…” Cora turned away from them, which would have puzzled him several years ago but now only told him that she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “About how long it's been since he’s been on the field. About how we already lost your dad, and now with your mom - well, I’m worried he might be a bit reckless.”

“You and me both!” Sara said.

“He is a soldier, is he not?” Jaal asked, now confused. “He should know when to fire his gun and when to holster it. Being reckless on the field is more likely to get both him and his mother killed.”

“Yeah, but I’m worried about him being able to stay focused on that in the heat of the moment,” Cora replied. She’d turned back to face them now; her eyes locked on Sara’s. “Which is why I’d like to know if you’d be alright if I cover him.”

“I’d actually feel better about that,” Sara said with a sigh. “Just don’t let him know you’re looking out for him. Scott would have a fit if he thought that I was assigning someone to be his babysitter.”

“Understandable,” Cora said and winked. “He won’t learn it from me.”

“Thanks, Cora.” Sara turned toward him and Cora both, and Jaal knew from the slight frown on her face that she was once again focused on her brother. “I better go to tell Kallo and Suvi we’re picking him up. Cora, Jaal, see if you can help Vetra get any information from the Nexus computers about who might have authorized my mother’s release.”

“Understood.” Cora said, and left. Jaal lingered, not wanting to be parted from Sara. He understood now why his mother so regretted his father’s passing; even being separated from her for just a few moments was nearly unbearable. He had been told that this would fade in time, but a part of him did not want it to.

“Your familial relationships are complicated,” Jaal said, and Sara looked up in surprise. “Sometimes I think you humans just don’t have enough siblings, so you have to invent worries to make up for the lack of them.”

Sara laughed, as he had hoped she would, her bright white teeth sparkling. “Jaal. You always know what to say to set me at ease.”

“And the same is true for me.”

“How many brothers and sisters do you have, anyway?”

“About twenty, more or less. If you include those from my mother’s mother’s, then a good forty.”

“Forty,” she breathed; she sounded a bit stunned by that, and Jaal wondered if humans rarely had beyond two children in their families. Such a pity if so. “Do you want that many children?”

“With you? I would like enough to make sure no one is lonely.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “There are many orphans in this universe, Sara. Both from the milky way and Andromeda. But - I am prepared to make some sacrifices. There will be others; angaran families are not just two people alone. Your mother, your brother, my family - they are all a part of us.”

“It sounds nice. I just hope that we can get mom back.” She murmured. “Jaal, Dad entrusted her to me and to think that I’ve already messed up so much that she’s been kidnapped by the Roekaar.”

“Sara, you have not messed up,” he said softly.

“I should have kept a guard on her.” Sara frowned. “I was lax. I didn’t think anyone would figure out who she was, what happened to her. That someone did is -”

“Something we will figure out. But it is not something that could have been forewarned. Do not blame yourself, Sara. We will get her back. All we can do now is make a plan of action.”

“Alright.” She gave him a brief hug and said, “I have to go.”

“I know.” He pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head and headed off after Cora, who was already talking with Vetra and, no doubt, Vetra’s sister. “Stay strong and clear, Sara.”

“You too.”                    

\---

  
There was something in Ellen's throat.

She couldn’t breathe; her fingers tore frantically at the hose.

Something came by her. A person? No, not that; she almost screamed as the face looked at her - hopelessly alien. Not Asari, nor turian, nor salarian. Not Volus, nor elcor, nor even Vorcha or Batarian. The face that looked at her had eyes like star-shines, with pale, luminescent pink skin.

“Shh.” The creature said. “ _Efa ne juba_.”

“What? I don’t - I -” The creature jabbed something in her neck, and Ellen felt the blackness swirling around her.

“ _Jaba_!” The creature shouted. “ _Jaba_!”

Ellen slept, and the world moved around her.


	4. Chapter 4

Scott felt almost embarrassed by the amount of weaponry he’d been given. He was wearing armor that was _more_ state-of-the-art than he knew he could have afforded back in the Milky Way. He was holding the most precise sniper rifle he’d ever held, a black widow in _perfect_ condition, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to pay for it.

“Friends of Vetra don’t pay,” the supply runner (whose name Scott had felt ashamed to have missed - Benjamin? Bernard?) said and winked, and Scott’s protests had come to naught.

And so he sat, tense in the docks as people stared at him. It reminded him of sitting with dad when they were both deploying, back then, back when dad’s N7 armor would steal the show.  Now he was the source of all the attention, and he wanted nothing so much as to not be.

But at least focusing on that kept him from worrying about mom. He was beginning to wish the Ryder family had never even heard of the Initiative; what had it brought them but grief? Dad was gone, Sara was busy 24/7, and mom, well... _mom_.

His thoughts were diverted by the rapidly-becoming-familiar blink of the _Tempest_ as her engines glided her down onto the Nexus’ dock. Thankful, he got up, and ignored the multiple stares and curious eyes as he made his way to her.

Sara was at the door when he got there and that, more than anything, set his mind at ease. He gathered her up into a big hug, and she squeezed his shoulders tight.

“We’ll fix this,” he said, softly, and she didn’t bother to reply, but it was enough not to argue with her.

\--

Ellen woke up again. She was not sure what time it was. Her head ached like something fierce; she tried to make noise, but her tongue felt thick and slow. She sucked in a harsh, loud breath; her skin hurt, her eyes hurt, her - everything - hurt. And her head, more than anything, swam.

She tried to remember what it was that Alec had always told her to do in situations like this. She was an N7’s wife and thus was used to the potential threat that she might one day come to. She hoped to never be held captive, but such a situation had somehow come to pass. She took a deep breath and tried to remember his voice - it felt like it had been a hundred years since she’d heard it.

Watch. That had been his first rule; despite the pain, she focused on quickly looking at the room where she was being held. There was no one there, this time - _this_ time? She tried to concentrate on that and remembered an odd, alien face. A _beyond_ alien face. So - she was being held captive by aliens. She was in a facility of some kind; there were odd tubes all around the pod she was in. And the pod was for… stasis, judging from the hyper-inhibitor near her arm. Wait, a stasis pod?! She sucked in another breath, trying to focus on not screaming.

“Alec,” she murmured. “Alec, did you - ?” The last thing she remembered had been falling asleep, falling into a self-induced coma. Alec had been watching over her then - had he found her help? Had he taken her to some highly advanced facility at the edges of space? If so - why wasn’t he here now?

There was a clatter behind her, what sounded like heavy footsteps. She willed herself to listen - _if you can’t watch, listen_ \- Alec’s second rule of survival. The footsteps were heavy and odd; it reminded her of the way turians walked, oddly-gaited and legs turned oddly away from their chests. But the species she had seen looked nothing like the turians, and they’d never been the best scientists anyway.

“ _Esho de jaba_ ,” the alien said. “ _English ne argo vival, ne_?” She tried hard not to react to that; if the alien thought her unconscious, she wouldn’t be jabbed with more drugs in her system. Unable to ascertain whether Alec had brought her here, she wasn’t going to make any more direct contact until she knew it was safe.

The person who was near her - the alien - tugged at one of the tubes. She pressed her lips together, willing herself not to call out in pain. She was having a hard time of it, the agony in her stomach unbearably tight as she realized, with some horror, that the hose had been attached to her.

It was shoved back in roughly; if she wasn’t already terrified, she would have blanched. So they weren't even using any sort of sterilization? She would have never used the same tubing twice. And was the tube meant to bring something into her - or out?

“ _Esho_ ,” the alien said. “ _Esho_.”

“ _Eko jaar_ ,” another one said; this time she nearly fainted as it stepped toward her. Taller than she’d have thought, and stronger too. “Keep her alive. We need to get as much of her blood as we can. Feed her if you must.”

 _It speaks English_ , she thought, and nearly fainted.

“ _Karaa de boji_ ,” the tech said. “ _Shakleth_?”

“ _Haish_ ,” the other said, and she heard another set of heavy footprints heading down the hall.

The alien tech ran a hand over her face in what she hoped was a compassionate embrace, and then she heard them retreating. She tried to focus on the feel of it - slightly damp, likely with her blood - but heavy, otherwise, three fingers, one larger than the others.

 _Alec_ , she thought, _Where are you?_

And then sleep claimed her once again.

\- - -

Scott didn’t feel like he belonged on the crew.

He sat in one of the chairs in the Tempest’s war room, watching everyone else gather into what looked like familiar places. He didn’t want to call too much attention to himself.

Is that what it felt like to belong? He wondered. He had never felt like this on any assignments; not even in the Milky Way had he ever felt like he’d truly bonded with his unit. Here, Sara’s group here never asked, never waited for an assignment; they simply did. And it was wonderful.

Dad, he thought, would have been proud.

Only the angaran who _wasn’t_ currently dating his sister didn’t seem to have much else to do; he sat, arms folded, looking surly. He’d been another new recruit, arriving just minutes after Scott himself did - but unlike Scott, he had the presence of a leader. He appeared to be content to have his underlings work for him - rather than the other way around.

And unlike Scott, he didn’t seem particularly bothered that the ship wasn’t moving nearly as fast as Scott wanted it to.

Cora ambled over, sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’re gonna get your mom. Promise.”

“Thanks.” He was surprised that he meant it. Cora hadn’t been someone he’d known well in the Milky Way - they’d met a few times, different dinners his dad had been invited to and the like - but rarely, if ever, had they had a conversation longer than _hi_ and _pleasure to see you again_.

“You’re a biotic?” she asked; her eyes seemed to evaluate him, and he reflexively sat up a little straighter.

“Yeah,” he said; she didn’t pull back from him, and he raised an eyebrow. “You, too?”

“Yeah.” She flickered her hand and a bright eezo trail followed.

And Scott, for the first time in a long time, smiled.

“Alright,” Sara clapped her hands, and they looked up. “Everybody’s here.” She briefly introduced everyone, which Scott had the sneaking suspicion was done entirely for his benefit.

Cora stood up beside him and pulled out a map on her omni-tool. “Here’s where we’re at. Thanks to data from Akksul - “ the angara nodded - “We know they’re holding Ellen here on the _Dawnstar._ It’s a space-station, so we’re going to need to go in hot.”

“How do we keep them from attacking mo-Ellen- while we’re fighting?” he asked.

Akksul stood. “We split into two teams. I have a ship that is cleared by the Roekaar, and it is unlikely they’ll go through the flight logs to remove my access. Jaal and I will go in first, ensure Mrs. Ryder’s - safety - and then we will give you all a signal for extraction.”

“You think mom’s going to be able to stand after what they’re doing to her?”

“We’re going to have to hope so,” Sara said, quietly, and no one argued.

\---

Somehow, she slept. She did not want to, but she felt weak. It was not just her disorder, she knew; that had brought on the muscle weakness, but not the way her head spun. She wanted to throw up, her vision half-blackening.

 _Look_. Alec’s voice whispered in her ear so vividly she couldn’t help but think he was there.

She opened her eyes; the alien technician was sitting near her, his hands focused on some sort of beaker that was near her - stomach? Oh god.

“ _Esho_!” The alien said quietly. He or she was startled visibly, almost dropping their beaker. The delicate glass bottle reminded her of the ones she had once in her own lab. She wondered how far away that lab was now. She tried to raise up her arms to tell them she was no threat, but found, much to her horror, that she couldn't. Refusing to dwell on that, she looked toward the alien and willed herself to look non-threatening.

"I won't hurt you," she said. “Really, I won't. I couldn't. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am? I seem to have been separated from my family.” The alien’s expression suggested nothing so much as terror.

“ _Eshel_ ,” it grunted. She had no idea what that meant, but she had a feeling it _wasn’t_ helpful. She tried a different tack.

“Um, I think I came here with my husband. His name is Alec; he's a human like me.”  She wished she could point, could perhaps pull out her omni-tool and show the alien -- but then if she had her omni-tool, she wouldn't be able to use it anyway.

“My husband. Alec. He’s human, like. About six feet, four inches. Can I see him?”

The aliens stared at her as if she grown another head; then again, for all that she knew, she had. The alien tech muttered something that she couldn't catch, but it sounded angry. It gathered up its tools, obviously planning on leaving.

“No, please don't go!” she said. They had information; Ellen needed it. “Don't go. You're the only one of your kind that I've seen and I just --- can't you tell me where I am?”

The sound for door locking was her only answer.

\---

She closed her eyes after the alien left, trying to shake off her frustration. She hated being a Damsel in Distress. She had little doubt that Alec and the kids would mock her once she got out of here.

 _If you get out of here_ , a little voice whispered in her head. It was far closer to her own voice rather than Alec’s. She cringed. There was no time for her own doubts. She might not be a warrior like Alec, but that didn’t mean she was helpless. She tried to run through her options. First up - call for help. Calling for help she threw out right away. She doubted it would do much good. Whoever she was with, the people clearly didn't understand her. Whatever they were doing, she had little option to convince them in any way other than to pray that these strange, new aliens were merciful.

The second option, then - analysis. She tried to go over what she had already noted on what they might be doing. All she could determine was that they were taking a great deal of her blood and they didn't seem to care much -- if at all -- about how they would be replenishing the supply. She was fairly certain one of the tubes had some sort of nutrition in it;  what kind of food she couldn't tell, but she but she knew she had to be getting something, because she was still there, still alive after all that it happened. It was possible she had gotten separated from Alec. Maybe there'd been some sort of confusion over the cryo pods; maybe she'd been sent to the wrong place or, worse, loaded on the wrong Ark. Or maybe -- she didn't want to think about it -- but the scientist in her could not deny that there was a possibility that everyone else was dead and that she somehow had washed up on alien shores.

That thought was unwelcome, but the more she thought about it the more she could rationalize that it wasn't likely. Humans were a tenacious bunch and Ellen Ryder doubted anything short of a nuclear Holocaust could kill them all.

She shook her head. Worrying about how they intended to hurt others with her blood would change nothing. She was forgetting another of Alec’s rules - _focus on yourself, then others._ So her options, then. Movement wasn’t an option; she appeared to be stuck like this. Not only was she unable to move, but she couldn’t even speak to anyone here.  It was hard to remain cognizant. The medicine they put her on made her feel blurry; the lack of blood and withdrawal from her own prescriptions no doubt added to that feeling. She tried to focus when she was awake but the hours that she was awake were becoming fewer and farther between. Ellen was slowly becoming aware that she was likely dying. It was funny; it had always seemed inevitable and until Alec had come up with this crazy plan, it had seemed more and more inevitable each coming day.

Now that she was in a situation where she was likely going to be killed, she found herself ill prepared. All the classes she had taken back on Citadel were of little use to her now. She felt helpless in a way she hadn't felt for a long time, unable to do so much as feed herself. All she could do was ask each time the tech came where she was and what they were going to do to her.

She knew already that she wasn’t going to get an answer.   
  
\---

 Ellen Ryder began to welcome sleep, after a few days of trying, without success, to rescue herself. She lost count of how many days past like this. At a certain point, she felt surprised to be waking up. Her mouth felt dry and uncomfortable. Her limbs ached. Above all, she wished well for Alec and the kids.

Whatever nutrition they pumped into her was keeping her alive but not much else. She could tell that she had been given her the medicine that helped control her tremors in her arms and legs. Then again, she was restrained. Perhaps her hands were already shaking, and she was unable to tell.

It wouldn't be long now, she thought. She wondered how long she would have to wait until she saw Alec and the kids again. She knew Alec would have no pity when he saw what they did to her and she hoped her captors had the sense be afraid of the wrath of her husband. But then again, if they did, they wouldn't be keeping her here in chains, would they?

With that thought in mind, she fell asleep once more.

\---

She was awoken once more, but something seemed different this time. She couldn't put her finger on it at first. Her eyes were too blurry to tell who was there; she assumed it was the tech. This time the tech placed a hand upon her mouth and leaned down. Her pulse quickened as he reached lower, snapping some - something, some sort of restraint. A dull pain thundered into her, then roared into a painful inferno that made her see black.

When her head finally cleared, she could not prevent the urge to scream. There was another one of the aliens present, this one of a stature far broader in his chest than the technician. This one, she had no doubt, was a soldier. His skin was a different a different color, too, a mottled, kind of bruised color. His hands were callused.

“Are you Ellen Ryder?” the soldier asked.

Ellen nodded, stunned this one spoke their language and knew her name. Had Alec sent him? But if so, where was he? She found it hard to believe that Alec would leave her to be picked up by someone else.

“My name is Akksul,” the said. “Do you understand that?” She nodded again.

“You mustn't scream,” he said. “You mustn't scream when I take my hand off your face, okay?”   
  
“You speak English,” she said, stunned, and he tossed her an almost-human look of disdain as if such a thing was beneath him.

“No, I speak Shalesh, _our_ lingua franca, the language of _this galaxy_. What you are hearing is all due to translators.” He tapped the space near where an ear might be on a human, a sort of soft fleshy area by the two large lobes that touched each side of his face. “My people have decided to share our language's codex with yours. You should be honored for the privilege.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, trying not to further offend. “If you could understand… Can everyone here? If your people can translate for us, why hasn't anyone here answered me?”

“Do you talk to the _adhi_ when it barks?” he asked her and she looked at him.

“I'm not sure how to answer that.” She had no idea what an _adhi_ was but she somehow still picked up the idea that she should be insulted.

“To them, you are little more than an _adhi_ , an animal. Meat to be slaughtered,” he said. Then, changing gears, he glanced down toward the stasis pod. “I have been sent by Sara Ryder, our human ‘Pathfinder’. I believe you know her.”   
  
“Sara is my daughter,” she said, hating how many questions she had to ask but this man knew his daughter's name. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not; either it was a trap, and the man had done his homework, and therefore was a grave threat. Or the man was genuine, and Sara was working on rescuing her.

He tapped his foot, impatient, and she realized she must have been deliberating for far too long. He had expected something else, some other sort of reaction, and she had, by his standards, failed.

“ I am here as an advance guard, understand me?” he asked; this time she nodded. He didn’t show any pleasure at this, but neither did he show the irrational disdain that he had shown in the past.

 “My colleague and I have infiltrated this base. We will be getting you out of here, to safety and medical support. So you must stop your yapping; it is vitally important that we stay quiet. Only two of us can come in without raising alarms, and we cannot risk blowing our cover. I'm going to pull out the tubes that they have connected to you now. You must not scream, but it will be quite painful. We do not have the time to do this slowly.”   
  
She nodded, biting her lip and tensing for what would surely be highly painful. She was beginning to wish he had not undone the restraints on her arms because she wanted nothing more than to push him away. This new man, Akksul, shoved his three-fingered hand near her stomach. Although she could not see it, she winced as she felt his fingers poking at the tubing, searching for the connectors. She could tell from the way his fingers were moving that they had connected it to her with extremely archaic methods, as if done by someone who was apathetic about her going septic. The odds of that, she thought sourly, were quite high and she would be lucky to even survive this. Her brain, ever so helpful at cataloging information, immediately began think of the many, many ways that the situation could go wrong.

The man’s hand found one of the connectors -metal, because of _course_ , they would use something that might add the chance of blood poisoning on top of it. She grunted in pain. _This is it_ , she thought. _I am going to die._

But if she had to die, she did not want to die on this agonizing sweaty deathbed that she been confined to for so long. Her new friend - she could only hope he was that, at least -  was true to his word, ripping out the pipes quickly and tossing them onto the stasis pod toward her face.

The first was stained with her blood and stank like ichor, the blood spilling and slowly dribbling out on her chest. _That’s my blood_ , she thought somewhat feverishly and wondered once again whether she be lucky enough to escape this situation.

There was a knock on the door; they both startled. The door slid around, and she watched her new alien friend carefully; he pulled what looked like a semi-automatic out of a pouch underneath his - she wasn’t sure what to call it - a poncho?

A face appeared, another alien similar to her new friend, with a brighter pink shade to his skin. “Akksul! Are you - are you ready?” He glanced over at her, his eyes widening. “She isn’t - you’re not done?”

“It isn’t so easy, Jaal,” her friend spat. “Do you want to put your hand in human entrails and dig around for the latches?”

“We’re running out of time!” Jaal hissed, and then before she knew it he was next to Akksul, and a second pair of hands was in her stomach.

“Fuck,” she muttered. It had hurt with only one hand - now with two, the skin was pulled taut, and she was reminded of all the ways in which they hadn’t taken care of her.  
  
“No talking!” Akksul hissed, and she glared at him. A second hose popped off and was thrown towards her, equally covered in blood. She felt faint and wondered if they’d be able to close her up.

“I am sorry,” the one named Jaal whispered. “We have a doctor on our ship. A good doctor. An asari - she will take care of you, I promise.”  
  
“That won't matter if you don’t get this done,” Akksul said. She was beginning to feel like these two had a history. She took a deep breath and looked first to one, then the other.

“Then _hurry_ ,” she said. Her skin itched. She wanted nothing more than get out of this coffin, and the sooner the better.

Jaal and Akksul both nodded, almost in tandem, and she wanted to laugh, but she was still far too terrified of the situation to do so. She bit down again, unable to suppress a groan as Jaal removed the final tube, a large one that stank of some sort of algae-ish solution. What little was still flowing out of it appeared to be some sort of algae and herb concoction, held in a sort of saline solution. _Food and water_ , she realized numbly. No wonder she had felt so shitty; they were feeding her the diet of a goldfish.

A shot rang out across the hall and all three looked at one another.

“We are out of time!” Akksul barked. “Sara and the others must have boarded!”

Jaal’s face paled, and Akksul nudged him; with his hands back up at eye-level, she could see how they were stained red. “There is no time to worry about your girlfriend! We must go!”   
  
“She needs something to bind the wound,” Jaal muttered, his face so deep red he almost took on another color. Ellen, still woozy, turned and looked at him, slowly processing the sentence.

_Boyfriend? Sara’s boyfriend? My Sara’s boyfriend?_

She recalled the discussion they’d had about potential turian in-laws shortly after the first contact war, and bit her cheek to keep herself from laughing. If only Alec could have lived to see this.

Another shot rang out, this one closer -- Jaal turned away from her, moving back toward the lab tech’s table. He pulled what looked like a bandage roll off the table, then returned.

“Get up,” Akksul said, barking orders. She tried to stand, but couldn’t quite get up; her arms ached, shaking with the effort. “Up now, woman!”   
  
“I - I can’t,” she muttered, and hating this feeling, hated feeling weak. Akksul stared at her for one more precious second; the firing in the halls beyond sounded even closer now. He made a frustrated noise and reached for her, his hands coming around her waist, and then he lifted her.

It was an odd sensation, being carried like a child, but one she was grateful for. She stumbled in his arms. Jaal was back now, pulling the bandage roll across her abdomen, again and again.   
  
“You are still bleeding,” he said, looking very serious. “If you cannot walk, you will have to be carried.”

“Take her,” Akksul barked; “I will cover you.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Jaal said; Akksul looked surprised at that, which was all the more reason to suspect these two had some sort of hidden rivalry between them. At the moment though, she didn’t care.

Ellen Ryder just wanted to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara ran, her heart in her throat.

They had agreed. She watched Jaal and Akksul’s smaller ship go into the belly of the _Dawnstar_. She waited fifteen agonizing minutes for some sign of life. They’d agreed not to use any sort of communications before getting to Ellen, for fear of the Roekaar figuring out their plan. Unfortunately, fifteen minutes had passed without ANY id, which meant one of three things:

  * They were dead, and had been shot down in the landing deck.
  * They had not found Ellen, and going in could lead the Roekaar to killing her in retaliation for the attack.
  * They had found her, but she was already dead, or sick, or -



Too many variables. She closed her eyes and tried to think of what dad had always taught her. _Stick to the plan, kiddo._

“Hey, it’s been fifteen. You ready?” Her brother tapped her shoulder, and she looked over. It still felt weird to see Scott in the armor, _dad’s_ armor, she was pretty sure - and holding a long-range sniper rifle that she was sure she had put on her Christmas list. But he also looked prepared - and that, in and of itself, made her feel better.

They were out of options. The only thing they could do was try to blast in hot, to lure anyone who might be savvy to their plan away from Jaal and Akksul, and to trust that the angarans could bring mom home without getting killed. She’d already lost dad...teh idea of losing mom and Jaal too on top of it all was heartbreaking. So Sara closed her eyes, took her breath, and did what dad would do.

Ignore it.

“Kallo! Suvi! Evasive maneuvers! Gil - get those lasers on hot! We need as much cover fire as possible for our boarding party. Boarding party - be at the door and ready to bolt when I say go!”

“UNDERSTOOD!” the deck cried out, and Sara focused herself on the door to the outside world.

It was time to go.

\---

Jaal ran from shadow to shadow. Sara’s mother lay pressed against his chest, breathing deeply and silently. She had slung her arms around his neck and he tried not to think about how warm she was, how certain it was that she had a fever.

What they had done to her was sick, wrong; it made him ashamed.

Akksul moved in front of him, silent; stealthy. Neither of them talked. It reminded Jaal of nothing so much as the days in the mines, when they’d hidden in deep crags, trying to take out the Kett invaders before they had taken their resources. The stakes had, somehow, been lower then, though it had seemed as if they were impossibly high at the time.

Akksul raised his hand, and Jaal stopped. Ellen closed her eyes, but kept quiet.

“Look in here,” Akksul said. Ellen raised her head and her eyes widened; Jaal was sure his were just as large when he saw what she saw.

Bottles. Many, many bottles. Each filled with a bright red, viscous liquid.

“That’s the weapon, isn’t it?” Jaal said. Ellen Ryder gripped his arm tighter, and he vowed that he would protect her at all costs.

“Yes,” a voice said, and then there was a shot of bright light; a stun grenade. Jaal turned, shielding Ellen from the blow. The light grazed his back and he grunted.

“A pity you’ll have to experience its effects first hand,” she drawled.

“Aarsoh Namal,” Akksul said, standing up. Jaal glanced toward him and his heart sunk; Akksul was already in an offensive stance, his weapon drawn.

She reached for a bottle and began unscrewing it, and Jaal started to reach for his own weapon; Akksul dove forward, shouting. “No! Not this time! It’s too delicate!”   
  
Namal twisted away, protecting the biological agent from falling into Akksul’s hand. Akksul hit the ground, but rolled, as years of experience had taught him. A shot came from across the hall; he saw Scott Ryder’s face peering out, with a sniper rifle in his arms.

“Scott!” Ellen called, and there was a longing in her voice that broke Jaal’s heart. He was not used to this, to being able to unite mother and son.

Scott grabbed his rifle and Jaal knew it was too late, but called out anyway. “Don't shoot!”

The shot that came in answer was like a scream. Jaal moved, too slow, too held down with Ellen. Namoh cackled, turned, pushing the jar outwards, willing herself to be martyred if it meant taking Akksul and Jaal and all the aliens down with her. Akksul had thrown himself into the path of the bullet, trying to wrest away the jar that held their doom.

The next few moments seemed to crystallize into an eternity; he felt everything from the whip of air blasting his face to Ellen's arm falling forward as she finally passed out.  He felt the blood pounding in his veins from the panicked thud in his ears to the damnably slow speed of his own feet. He memorized every feature on Sara's face as she followed her brother, her hand trailing bright blue. He saw both twins eyes widen as the jar cracked.

The noise was quiet but deafening. Akksul grunted as he heard it, and Namoh smiled.

And then the jar dripped. And all of them knew what it meant.

“Fools!” Namoh bellowed. “You have lit the flames for your own funerary pyre!”

“Run!” Akksul bellowed, at the same time as Sara screamed an incomprehensible howl of his name. That nearly turned him to stone, but he resisted. He could bring Ellen to Sara, then return for Akksul. The chance they could both be saved was slim, but Jaal had been born into a community of slim chances and knew, above all things, that they had too many losses. He could not simply stand by and lose another angara, even one as quarrelsome as Akksul.

“I cannot leave you here,” he said to Akksul. “The Moshae will never forgive me. “

The jar cracked open fully, vitrolic red splashing Namal’s sleeve. She laughed but he could see the pain in her eyes when the sleeve melted away, her skin hissing underneath it.

“Go!” Akksul barked again.

“Mom! Jaal! Come on!” Sara held her arm out as if she could biotically fling herself towards them. Scott took several steps forward, but Akksul looked back, incredulous.

“RUN!” he shouted. “Aren't you listening? Run you idiots!”

Namal took the jar back from Akksul with her remaining good hand, and turned toward Jaal, looking like nothing so much as a mad-woman. In the glint of the light, she was no less murderous than the Kett, and Jaal felt nothing but pity for her.

He ran then, as fast as he dared to. Sara was moving toward him, her hands already glowing again. He zipped hard to the right as she pulled her hands forward, recognizing that she was summoning a shock-wave.

He moved quickly, too quickly, and stumbled forward a bit as Sara unleashed the shock-wave, sending Namal and her poisonous brew backwards. With Ellen’s dead weight in his arms, he tried to catch himself and failed, stumbling. He had little time, only enough to turn sideways and hold Ellen tight, in hopes that his story of meeting the grandmother of his children would not end with “and then he squished her.”

He did not turn back but heard Namal screaming her agony in her defeat. Sara made it toward him, and she pressed a hand to his head.

“I am fine,” he said. “Take Ellen.”

“Okay,” she grunted, and this was another thing he loved about her, how quickly she understood. He had to go back for Akksul, had to try to get him away from the weapons—and Sara, somehow, knew this, knew all of this, knew without speaking what he needed and what she could do to help him with his goals.

Sara lifted Ellen easily, Scott quickly helping her shoulder the weight. There was faster rates of popping in the grand hall beyond them; the familiar sound of Andromeda Initiative weapons being expended. Not far away now—and with Ellen unconscious, they needed support.

“Go,” he said quietly to Sara. “Quickly.”

Again she quickly moved, nodding crispy and moving toward the hall. “I’ll meet you on the other side, Jaal,” and he smiled. No matter whether he got out of here alive or not, that would still be true.

“Stay strong and clear, Ryders! We’ll deal with the -” He turned back toward Namal, and stopped as he saw the scene before him.

She was dead; her body smoking and bubbling from the weapon that had shattered in her grasp. But underneath her was another body, trapped. A gun still in his hand, Akksul turned toward him.

“Fool,” he muttered weakly. “Utter fool.”

Jaal reached a hand out, wanting—no, needing—to get Akksul out of the rubble. Akksul laughed, hard and heavy and _wet,_ then shook his head.

“I’m beyond that.”

“How did you…?” Jaal had not noticed Akksul falling, and felt guilty for that. He had been focused wholly on Ellen, on Sara. His family, or at last what he hoped would one day become one.

“She tried to lob it toward you. I ran to grab her, but she blew backward, into me.” He glared for a moment, but he was becoming less focused in the pain; his eyes were glossy. “Damnable humans.”

“Thank you for your aid,” he said, sidestepping the criticism; the last thing he wanted to do was argue with Akksul in his last moments. He wanted to press a hand onto Akksul’s pulsing skin. But he could not; the only thing he could do was watch.

“You must -” Akksul grunted, his body filled with pain. “You must finish the job. Destroy their back-ups.”

“Setting that off would destroy this entire hall,” Jaal said, but his thumb was already on one of the mines in his belt.

“So be it. A quicker end -” Akksul coughed, his throat rattling and distressing wet “- is not such a bad thing. Tell the Moshae I am sorry for any pain I have caused her.”

“I will.” Jaal said, promising. “Stay strong and clear until we meet in the next life, brother.”

“Stay strong and --” Akksul coughed, a hideous painful thing, and a spurt of blood appeared on his chin. “C-c-c-”   
  
Jaal could not stand to see him in such pain. “I know, brother. Now rest. Until we meet again.”

Jaal took one last look at Akksul, memorizing him, and knew the story he would tell to Akksul’s family, and to his own. They had never gotten along all the time, but—he had died for Sara’s mother and her people, as well as his own. That would be remembered.

Jaal threw the grenade; he had 2 minutes. And then he ran.

\---

Cora Harper was not having a good day.

She groaned as she held up the biotic shield that was protecting Drack, Vetra, Peebee, and Liam; it was the only way that they had been able to gain any kind of upper hand on the massive numbers of Roekaar on the ship. Her shield was vital. And, unfortunately, it meant she had had to stay in the same place.

Her arms ached from holding it, but not as much as her legs did. Scott had disappeared after Sara, who had in turn disappeared to find Jaal. That had been a good fifteen, twenty minutes, and she was well aware that by standing here, she was breaking her promise to Alec and Sara, who had both asked for her to look out for Scott.

 _I’m sorry_ , she thought. She knew she couldn’t abandon the shield; Peebee couldn’t sustain it, not like she could, and none of the others had a hint of biotic ability. She couldn’t fire her gun, not while holding this, so all she could do was sustain.

It was… frustrating.

“Yer doing great, kid!” Drack bellowed before turning around and smacking one of Namal’s followers who’d dared to breath their bubble with his head-plate. “Keep it up!”   
  
She nodded, and tried to withstand it. Their followers were thinning now; either they were being diverted to Sara and Scott, or they had finally been able to staunch the tide, and their numbers were thinning. She hoped it was the latter, but suspected more than anything the former.

Sweat beaded her brow, dripping into her eyes, but she didn’t dare move her arms to wipe it. Peebee, surprisingly tactful, looked over at her for a moment, then reached out with one hand and dotted at Cora’s eyes, while keeping up suppressing biotics with her other.

“Thanks,” she said, and Peebee nodded. Then she went back to killing.

Cora kept her eyes on the action ahead, only diverting her eyes to the exit Scott and Sara had vanished in every minute or so. She had to keep changing the alignment of the shield as Drack, Vetra, and Peebee moved, and her mind was constantly occupied with vectors and probabilities.

There was a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and Cora’s spirits lifted.

“It’s them!” she shouted, then despaired as she saw that Sara and Scott were carrying Ellen, their speed severely hampered by the dead-weight. Worse, several of the Roekaar were coming at them, guns firing. Worst still, she knew Sara couldn’t bring up her shields and shoulder the weight - and Scott was struggling.

Peebee shouted “Cora, give it to them!” And she felt a great relief for it, for she couldn’t stop herself from doing so, from keeping her last promise to the best ability she had, to surrounding Ellen and Scott and Sara with the only form of protection she could give.

“I’ll cover you!” she shouted; Drack and Vetra and Peebee all roared in agreement, and then they were moving, her own feet beating as fast a path as she dared despite the exhaustion, her arms unwavering.

She felt a flickering shield around her and looked up in surprise. “You’re welcome!” Peebee shouted, and, although the shield was unstable, it made Cora smile. It would do the job.

She didn’t dare allow herself to feel relief until they got to Sara and Scott, though. “Let’s go you home!” Vetra shouted, and no one disagreed.

\---

Mom was heavy on her shoulders, but the weight was manageable with Scott helping her.

Sara Ryder took a quick headcount as she walked; Drack and Vetra were flanking them at the back, Cora and Peebee pulling up the shields at the front, with Liam protecting them. Scott and mom by her side. They were almost out of hell.

But—there were still two of them missing.

“Where’s Jaal and Akksul?” she yelled. “Anyone see them?”   
  
There was a quiet that descended in the midst of the chaos of whirling lasers and bullets. Sara felt her her heart plunge to her knees but kept moving. The Tempest was coming ever closer, and if she got Scott and mom off the _Dawnstar,_ then she could go back for Jaal.

The quiet persisted for what felt like an eternity, even if it only took them around a minute to clear the hall. She was aware with every step she took she was taking a step away from the man she loved, but she knew she had to, and would come back for him.

She was on the rampart when the silence broke.

“I see him!” Liam shouted; and she looked up, relieved; “I see Jaal!”   
  
She looked up, incredulous, and smiled. “Get mom to Lexi!” she shouted to Scott, then shifted away. Cora grabbed mom, already ready, and Sara ran, throwing shock-waves and biotic pulls toward any of Namal’s followers who _dared_ to try to singe Jaal’s skin with their weaponry.

“Sara!” he boomed, and then he was with her, and they were running toward the ship, almost but not quite hand in hand, their guns still firing at anyone who dared pop up against him.

“Where's Akksul?” She asked.

“Not coming!” he barked, and she felt a bit of guilt then, but couldn’t dwell on it. Especially not when Jaal ground, “Hurry! We must clear the explosion!”

They ran faster, and faster; so fast, her lungs ached, and she felt a stitch coming in her side that she knew would be haunting her for _hours._

But that didn’t matter, not after they hit the ramp, and Kallo and Suvi took off, wasting no time. She didn’t allow herself to breath, not until she felt the explosion of the _Dawnstar_ beneath them, shaking her boots.

It was over.

And they had won.

\---

Ellen heard a lot of chatter around her as she awoke, and, for the first time, opened her eyes without fear of what she would see.

It was an interesting tableau before her - her pink rescuer, Sara, Scott, and an asari who clicked her tongue looking at her.

“You had a rough trip, Ellen. But we’re glad to see you made it,” the asari said, extending a hand and taking her temperature with it. “Lexi T’Perro by the way. I’ll be your doctor while you’re on the _Tempest_.”

“Mom,” Sara said, and Ellen heard the longing in her voice, the desperation and worry that must have been driving her daughter.

“Mom,” Scott agreed, and the desperation and worry was there in his voice too, ever-present, and then they both looked at one another and, seemingly as one, embraced her. She threw her arms around them both and, this time, did not stop herself from crying. The tears blurred her vision, but it did not matter; she had her family now.

After a beat, she felt a fourth hand encircling her, and looked up, startled, until she felt the form of Jaal’s heavy hand taking her own. It didn’t quite feel human, but it certainly felt friendly. She smiled.

“Mom, this is Jaal, my boyfriend,” Sara said, shyly almost, and Ellen couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tell me all about what you guys have been doing here,” she said, then, after a beat, “and where your father is.”

“Dad, well… it’s a long story,” Sara said, patting her hand. She looked uncomfortable, and Ellen _knew_ he was gone.

“Oh, Alec,” she said, and bit her lip. She had suspected, perhaps even known—Alec would never have sent Sara and Scott to go after her without him, unless he had no choice—but to know for certain was worse, and a heavy rock settled in her stomach.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Scott said, her sweet baby boy. “We’re still here. And dad—well, dad would be happy you’re here, too, I think.”   
  
She nodded, sad, and knew that she would mourn him. But Alec was gone, and for now, she had to concentrate on what was left behind.

“Tell me about Andromeda,” she said, willing her voice not to break. “Tell me _everything_.”

Her family drew around her and, with much relief, they did.


End file.
